


'Cause no one listens to the dead

by WiresCarryingMe



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Real Person Fiction, Sleepyboisinc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: "worried wilbur soot" should be a tag in my opinion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bullied TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Bullying, Families of Choice, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Muteness, Nightmares, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot is Concerned, Wilbur Soot-centric, Worried Wilbur Soot, ask to tag, comment if i need to add any more tags, eating disorder like thoughts ig?, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 10:02:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30053775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiresCarryingMe/pseuds/WiresCarryingMe
Summary: He cannot form the words he needs too. He had everything planned tonight everything was supposed to go right so why can’t he force himself to speak.--------------------------Or, Tommy sometimes goes mute, and people don't like it. So when he goes mute around Wilbur, he fears the worst.
Relationships: SHIPPERS DON'T READ, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, platonic - Relationship
Comments: 17
Kudos: 277





	1. Get a load of this monster He doesn't know how to communicate

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Monster" by Dodie, Chapter title's from Home by cavetown. I didn't listen to any music while writing. Don't show to any content creators, if any content creators in the fic wants me to take this down then I will.

Why does his throat hate him? Tommy cannot speak. He is trying to record a video, and he cannot open his mouth to form the words. He tries to does his intro, but a little whisper comes out of his opening words. He cannot record. He fucking hates this, he has free time everything should be good so why. Why cant he speak. He needs to do this why can’t he speak. 

“Tommy?” he hears a voice ponder, he cannot do this. 

He cannot form the words he needs too. He had everything planned tonight everything was supposed to go right so why can’t he force himself to speak. 

“Are you okay?” Wilbur, the person on the other end asks and Tommy feels like he’s gonna cry. 

He can’t even sob, he can talk to his parents just fine but he can’t even sob he can’t even get a tiny little word out he can’t speak why again why does this have to happen now- everything was fine everything was okay why is this happening again. 

There is a heavy silence between him and Wilbur as Tommy cries his heart out with Wilbur, confused and panicked, Wilbur who has no idea what the fuck is going on with Tommy. Tommy hears rustling from the other end, walking. He hears movement and he wants to ask whats going on but he can’t bring himself to get the words out. He can’t communicate, he’s like a fucking monster. He feels like a fucking asshole because he’s having another episode again and he isn’t supposed to. He had done so well in hiding these little episodes of muteness where his throat feels like its forcing itself not to form words, where he cannot form words without it being a tiny little fucking broken whisper if he’s lucky. 

Tommy remembers the little “aw” that happened when he whispered, video chatting with another unable to speak, he remembers his other friend’s face at it and he knows it didn’t have any ill intent but it felt so. So. He can’t describe it. He’s having trouble with everything right now. He doesn’t want Wilbur to look down on him if he does that, let out a little broken as whisper. He’s not a pet to be “aw”’s at, not a fucking creature (But he felt like it. He really really did. And he still does.)

He feels like as if he’s been blocked by a brick wall, feels as if the only form of communication he has is gone, because it is. Sure he has typing but it sounds like Wilbur’s driving over there and the words are blurring in his head, he’s not comprehending anything and he wishes he can get it out he must get it out. 

He hears his front door being opened by that damn spare key, he hears the pounding of feet rushing up the stairs and he can’t bring himself to speak, his facecam isn’t turned on and he doesn’t think that matters right now but he can’t help noticing this fact and clinging to it like a lifeline. 

He hears his door being knocked down, turns over to Wilbur, Tommy still crying his eyes out, and he sees a panicked Wilbur at his door who looked like had all his worst fears come true, he hears the “Tommy.” that comes out of Wilbur’s lips like Wilbur expected him to be dead, but he can’t respond to it. He can only hear Wilbur run over to him and hug him in a bone crushing hug. 

He knows they’ll need to talk after this hug, but for now? He’ll just be in the embrace, crying, and absorbing these few moments before Tommy has to speak to Wilbur. Before Tommy has no way to speak, and his worse fears will come to life. 

His worst fear, that Wilbur is like everyone else. 

(He knows fears can be irrational. But that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t course through his veins and make him cry. Nightmares of trying and trying to get any words out, but physically unable to, as he hears peoples yells and cries of “asshole!” “freak!” and other insults as he tries so desperately to get to Wilbur, held back in the white void by a bunch of white alive things, who are screaming the insults at him along with a crowd that’s formed around the two. Wilbur always does the same thing, regardless of the little details changing in those nightmares. He looks with the most disappointed, angriest, fucking DONE, look Wilbur could ever give, and slowing turns around his glare destroying Tommy’s heart, as he walks away. And never comes back) 

Tommy stays in this embrace, and Wilbur let’s go, Tommy screaming in his mind “no!” “just a bit longer” “Please. I need this. I need some hug.” and various other protests, physcially unable to get out, and Wilbur pulls back, goes on his level (Tommy’s still sitting in his chair), hands on both is shoulders, and eye to eye he asks 

“What’s wrong?” 

Tommy cannot respond. He sees Wilbur’s worried face, concerned as hell. And Tommy cannot respond. 

Tommy has no way to respond, he cannot physically do it. 

So, Wilbur stares at him, waiting for an answer, while Tommy cannot speak. Wilbur, who doesn’t know about Tommy’s little “episodes”, is looking him in the eyes, who drove other in a dash of fear of Tommy being hurt, expecting a response and Tommy cannot do it. 

Tommy realizes, in that tiny moment of fear, those nightmares were giving him mercy, this is worse than that glare. The worry is worse than any hatred he could’ve ever seen directed towards him from Wilbur. 

They stay like that, until Wilbur opens his mouth.


	2. Please don't ignore me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just for a moment, everything was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to "What's Wrong With Me?: from the mean girls musical while writing, chapter title's from that song! I kinda snapped on this one enjoy!

“Are you able to speak right now?” Wilbur asked Tommy. Tommy felt like he could cry, he was so happy. And confused. It felt so strange to not be met with some sort of angry reply, to be met with a sincere kindness he tried so hard to replicate to others, that he felt like he never knew himself but tried his damned best to show others. It was like his world had stopped then, out of pure joy and shock, it was like a wave just went in and washed some of the bad away for now. Because for a moment, Tommy knows Wilbur understands he isn’t doing this on purpose. 

Tommy shakes his head no, he cannot speak. 

“I guessed as much. Do you need some food?” Wilbur tried at the end, unsure territory approaching. He had no idea how to handle this, but Tommy approached the effort. Tommy nodded, they both went downstairs (Wilbur helping Tommy, who still had trouble moving from his emotional state, who needed to just touch someone a bit longer, the burn on his skin feeling so good from the simple touch.) 

Tommy sat on the couch, Wilbur in the kitchen cooking something up. Tommy had no idea what the man was making, but knew he was going to like it. Wilbur knew him after all, so he knew what he liked to eat (But not that he sometimes cannot speak. He never knew that for a long time, and he just found out. Tommy feels the guilt eat him alive.) 

Tommy had his thoughts, Wilbur silent in the kitchen. Tommy felt like a monster and hated himself, the warmth wave of happiness of Wilbur’s accepting fading to the time alone to his thoughts. He others, (Not his friends, who he streamed with and ones he didn’t stream with, the people who cared) hated him. Who’s cruel words of him just being a monster being right, who always made him feel guilty and ugly and he listens to because he cares, because he wishes to make everyone happy but he can always find something wrong with him, and they can too. He knows he’s an asshole for his throat forcing him not to talk sometimes, he knows he’ll just be ignored, that his voice isn’t worth listening too. He knows he’s lesser. He likes his friends (he doesn’t call the ones who speak the truth, who make him feel terrible, his friends.) because they either pretend or can’t see that. He likes his friends because they make him feel good, because joking with them and chatting with them in those brief moments of solace is nice. He fears one day they will leave. 

But he cannot make himself change, he cannot make himself less ugly or less an asshole or less of a monster because no matter what those people who he listens to like they are divine entities, always find a way for him to be bad. Always find a fault, find a reason why he’s an awful human being. He can never win, and Tommy hates himself, because he is terrible. He knows one day, that blood will fall one day. He knows it will be him, becoming his own undoing, because its what he deserves. 

“Here you go, Toms.” Wilbur handed him a burger he made with some chips on the side. Tommy instantly felt fat, he instantly felt like a UGLY monster just looking at it. He suddenly didn’t want to eat. Wilbur was looking at him expectantly, and he felt the pressure (That he made up himself) rise. He didn’t want to disappoint the man who felt like he was his brother. He doesn’t want to make him annoyed, doesn’t want Wilbur to hate him. Tommy felt like he was gonna cry, but kept it in. that felt so natural, which is good. He’s glad its natural now. He won’t make people angry at him for crying anymore. 

Wilbur looked at the boy, silent in his thoughts staring at the food, and sighed. Tommy tried his hardest to suppress a jump. He doesn’t know if Wilbur saw his flinch or if he didn’t. (Wilbur saw It. He doesn’t mention it, but he notes it.) 

Wilbur picked the burger up and put it in his mouth. Tommy chewed and Wilbur did a light hearted laugh. Everything in the moment felt fine. 

(Wilbur knew something was going on behind the scenes, he knew something was wrong. Tommy knew that he was getting fatter and fatter by the bite and tried to ignore the feeling of hurt.) 

everything was fine (no it wasn’t)


End file.
